


Ship's Biscuit

by Dryad



Category: Persuasion (2007)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28083153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dryad/pseuds/Dryad
Summary: Bet y'all thought this story was going to be full of raunch based on the title, heh.Persuasion is my absolute favorite Jane Austen novel for many reasons, one of which is that our heroine and hero are scarred. They know the pain of loss and though frightened of making another attempt at romance,  go for it anyway. I must also confess that I prefer the 1995 version with Ciaran Hinds and Amanda Root. An amazing production for a made-for-tv movie. Nonetheless, I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you like it too.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Ship's Biscuit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serenityabrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenityabrin/gifts).



Anne smoothed down the front of her dress again, wondering if maybe she should have chosen the pale green silk instead of the rose pink lawn. The fabric was fine, yes, and the maroon paisley shawl a weave so close she could draw it whole through her wedding ring. Frederick spared nothing on her wardrobe, yet even so, she felt a little strange, as if she were spending all of his wages on frippery. 

Her dress, the freshly cut white peonies in the blue China vase on the hallway table, the lacy curtains in the windows, the little yellow house itself. All for her. And all of it such quality. Not of course the standard of Kellynch, nor the shabby chaos of Uppercross, no. It was its very own thing and how well suited it was for her. The bed rooms were comfortably appointed, the dining table sat six without any leaves, not even the slightest draft entered the drawing room. Frederick's personal collection were in every room; delicate porcelain from China and Japan, a cribbage board carved from the tusk of a whale, bolts of cloth from India, Turkey carpets, boxes of tea and coffee and cones of pure white sugar. More wealth than she could ever have imagined, without including the cash prizes he had taken during the wars.

There was a sudden burst of muffled laughter, and she chided herself for falling back into bad habits. She was a married woman now, she had no need to fear the approbation of others. With that in mind, she opened the door.

"Ah, here she is," said Frederick, getting to his feet to greet her. 

The kiss on the cheek was still new; she blushed. He beamed, patting her hand. Beyond Frederick, Captain Harville was struggling to get to his feet. 

"Pray, sir, sit," said Anne, rushing to his side. "You mustn't tax yourself unduly."

He half-smiled and collapsed back into his chair. "Please excuse my poor manners. The weather..."

"Of course," said Frederick, pulling a chair from the table for Anne. "You _will_ stay the night, I won't hear otherwise."

Harville grimaced, shifting from side to side. "Yes, my bones ache with the cold."

Anne nodded. "My sister complains of the most fierce me-graines with these kinds of storms."

"I keep telling him to stay in the Indies - "

"East or West?" asked Anne, distracted by Mary, who had come into the room bearing a full tea tray. Eliza was on her heels, bearing a tier of cakes and tiny sandwiches. She would speak to them later; a tier of cake was far too formal for their guest.

"In truth I can't make up my mind," said Harville. "The spices of the East or the sugar and rum of the West, both have their merits."

"He could make his fortune with either. I know for a fact he has jars of ginger and nutmegs tucked away here and there," said Frederick, eyeing his friend fondly. "I shall be happy to back you whichever you choose."

Harville snorted, looked at Anne out of the corner of his eye. "Spend all your money on me with such a pretty new wife? I dare not ask for a ha'penny'orth."

"Ha!" barked Frederick. He reached out and squeezed Anne's hand. "Anne would not begrudge you a single shilling."

"Indeed I would not," said Anne, rising to her feet. "Would you care for lemon cake or madeira?"

"Both, my dear," said Frederick. "We need to fatten him up, he's far too skinny."

"Not too much, I hope. However shall I marry if I don't keep this trim figure?"

Anne noted Harville's morose tone and added a wedge of lemon to his saucer of tea. "Here you are," she said, placing Harville's cup on the table, and following with his plate of cake. Two slices, per Frederick's request. It might have been a joke, but Harville was too pale and too thin and cake could do no harm in the instance. Perhaps it was due to the weather, but both men fell upon their food as if they'd not eaten for days, and Anne left them to it. Mayhap the memory of their time aboard Toulon's prison ships held a deeper hold upon them than she had realized. Frederick had told her how they had dreamed of food, describing full meals in detail, to the point that when they were finally returned to England in one of the last cartel exchanges, the first thing they had done was order everything that could be had at the local inn, and more besides.

"Delicious," proclaimed Harville, having finally consumed all of one slice of cake, and taking a bite of the other. "And the tea! I swear - "

Frederick held up his hand, shaking his head. "Now now, Harry, that's quite enough. I don't want to swell Anne's head with all this talk of excellent tea and delightful cake when there's supper still to come."

Harville chuckled around a mouthful of madeira cake, leaving Anne to glare at Frederick alone. He raised his eyebrows, as if to say, 'Who, me?', when everyone in the room knew very well what he was trying to do.

Frederick leaned back in his chair and eyed them both. "Now, Harry, I asked you here not only because you are my friend, but because I have a proposal for you."

Harville perked up. "Oh? Nothing too strenuous, I hope."

Frederick paused and straightened his shoulders, a habit Anne now knew was a sign of pure nervousness. "Harry, Anne and I have agreed upon it, that you should join our household."

Harville froze and went wide-eyed. He looked at Frederick, then Anne, then at the tea slopping over the edge of his cup for the trembling of his hand. "I'm so sorry. I mis-heard and thought you said I should join your household."

Frederick nodded once. "Yes," he said in a grave tone. "We are not a large family, nor one with ambitions towards politics, yet we would be most content to have you."

"Upon my word, this was the last thing I was expecting," said Harville, haltingly. "I'm not exactly a member of Society." 

"Stuff Society! Admiral Croft and my sister will be ecstatic to introduce you. And I will not hear another word from you on the subject." snapped Frederick. Crossing his legs, he turned towards Anne, his mouth set firm. "Society!"

Anne smiled gently at him, then looked at Harville, who was still quite taken aback. "Have we shocked you very much?"

Harville shook his head. "I am speechless."

"Speechless!" repeated Frederick. "Never!"

"Are you...certain?" asked Capt. Harville, looking at Anne.

"I could not be persuaded otherwise," said Anne, mindful of Frederick's sudden attention.

"If we are to be married, please, call me Harry."

"Then you agree?"

Brows drawn down, Capt. Harville slowly grinned. "Yes...I believe I am."

"Excellent! I knew you would make the right choice," said Frederick, as if he had never had a doubt.

"Haven't I always?" 

"Mary!" thundered Frederick. "Champagne!"

The change in mood was instantaneous, and Anne could only be reminded of the previous night, when Frederick had first brought up the idea.

"What do you think?" Frederick had asked, the light from the candles highlighting the uncertainty on his face.

"Of course," said Anne, stepping closer to him. Their positions reversed, as she was taller than he while he sat in the chair. She cupped his cheek gently, then pulled loose the stock of his collar.

"There's no 'of course' about it," he answered, frowning. "You're my wife, and I won't persuade you to do something you are not wont to do."

Anne caught the nuance in his words, and though it hurt, she could only acknowledge what she had done. "I like your Captain Harville ever so much, dearest. I've come to learn a great deal about him not only from yourself, but from Capt. Benwick as well. Louisa speaks very highly of him -"

Frederick made a moue of surprise.

"It's true!" said Anne, smiling. "Failing to navigate the steps at Lyme has improved her character immensely."

"Oh," said Frederick, shaking his head. He stood, looming over her as he had always loved to do. " _You_ are a _terrible_ person, Anne Elliot."

Staring up at him, she could barely restrain herself from complete agreement. She was terrible; she wanted everything he wanted, because he wanted it. "Nonetheless, I shall be happy to have Capt. Harville in the family."

"Only if it please you."

Anne nodded. "It does."

"We'll need a bigger bed," mused Frederick, glancing about their bedroom.

Once again, Anne nodded. "I hope he likes yellow."

**Author's Note:**

> Bet y'all thought this story was going to be full of raunch based on the title, heh.
> 
> Persuasion is my absolute favorite Jane Austen novel for many reasons, one of which is that our heroine and hero are scarred. They know the pain of loss and though frightened of making another attempt at romance, go for it anyway. I must also confess that I prefer the 1995 version with Ciaran Hinds and Amanda Root. An amazing production for a made-for-tv movie. Nonetheless, I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you like it too.


End file.
